Tags
carefree, friends, friendship, happiness, happy, Life, philosophy, relationships, thoughts, zen
As recently as last night, I had an emotional conversation with one of my closest friends. Closest because she gets me. Or, perhaps, because she is simply great at empathizing with me, even when my wildest crises are so far removed from anything she may be experiencing. Lately, I’ve been pondering quite a bit over what it means to be a good friend. Is it to spend a ton of time together, bonding over wine and Netflix, whining about our mediocre sex lives, and left-swiping every guy on Tinder? Is it dumping all your problems on a friend’s lap, hoping they will point you in the right direction? Is it intuitively knowing exactly which Buzzfeed quiz they should take, endlessly laughing at old jokes and memories, sharing awkward dating stories, and discussing if the new denim overall trend is cute or not?
I guess it’s a little bit of all these things, combined. But for me, close friendships haven’t always come easy. I keep most people at an arm’s length, I separate intimacy from need, I rely on myself, more than I do on others. I aggressively lean on myself in times of need, I compete harshly, but only with my best version, thus far. This is not to say I’m not friendly. I consider myself a pretty laid back kinda gal, often striking up conversations with strangers, smiling at passersby, offering kind words or a compliment to someone random. But to be friendly and have friends are two entirely separate things.
As I’m getting older, I’m beginning to realize that friendships are about quality. I’m perfectly content with having a few very good friends in different circles, and friendly relations with everyone else. It isn’t all that important to me to have a giant group of friends with whom I share every detail of my life. Even when it comes to my few very close friends, I can happily say that I share a different bond with each.
While with Kathryn, I can bond over hippie dippie things such as philosophical life aspirations, liberal sexual ideals, and what it means to really be removed from the pressures of society, Tina is my go-to for whiskey induced wild nights, and the occasional mothering. Chantel inspires me. Kate is someone I can always rely on to make me laugh. I often forget just how much we have in common. Evan brings out the seven-year-old in me, when I sometimes get stuck being seventy. Raphael always pushes my buttons because even after five years of close friendship, he is the only friend who can get away with calling me out on my shit. Then there’s Laine–someone with whom I share a bond so special, it doesn’t matter that it’s been five years, eight boyfriends, the discovery of a new planet, many astrological developments, and several different career and educational moves since I’ve seen her. I always know we can pick back up wherever we left off.
Friendship is funny like that. When you share a deep friendship with someone, it’s an instinctive bond built on character foundations. I firmly believe that friendships only ever die when two people are no longer able to identify with one another’s foundations. Sometimes friends change. Sometimes we change. The good ones adapt. The not-so-good ones fall by the wayside. The upside to friendships is that they are often effortless. It takes very little to befriend someone. Maybe a little more to grow close, but very little to keep the wheels rolling.
So I always want to be open to meeting new people, or to truly befriending an old acquaintance with whom I only share a twitter bond. Life is too short to live in a tiny bubble with the same ole, same ole, and I want to experience everything. I want to meet all kinds of people, share fantastic little moments with each of them, even if they are fleeting. I want to have amazing, free-flowing conversations with strangers, heart-to-hearts with good friends, maybe the occasional heated debate. I guess what I’m really getting at is that I never want to say “no” to being worldly. I never want to back myself into a corner, or recluse myself into a small world of exclusivity. I never want to judge people too harshly, and in a perfect world, my lifestyle shouldn’t affect others.